When the sun, with cheerful beams,

Smiles upon a low’ring sky;

Soon its aspect softened seems,

And a rainbow meets the eye:

While the sky remains serene,

This bright arch is never seen.

Thus the Lord’s supporting pow’r

Brightest to his saints appears,

When affliction’s threat’ning hour

Fills their sky with clouds and fears.

He can wonders then perform,

Paint a rainbow on the storm.

All their graces doubly shine

When their troubles press them fore;

And the promises divine

Give them joys unknown before:

As the colors of the bow,

To the cloud their brightness owe.

Favored John a rainbow saw

Circling round the throne above;

Hence the saints a pledge may draw

Of unchanging cov’nant love:

Clouds awhile may intervene,

But the bow will still be seen.